


St. Joan and the Sock Guy

by NairobiWonders



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:57:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan, Sherlock and comments made behind their backs at the precinct precipitate a confrontation. No angst just partners watching out for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	St. Joan and the Sock Guy

"I think she's a masochist." The words were whispered around the corner from where she stood but were clearly audible. "How else could she stand being partners with that jerk. Thinks he's above every one and everything." Starkey's partner grunted in agreement at her comments and Starkey continued.

"I heard she even went back to living with him. What an idiot. She's probably got a martyr complex. Makes her look like a saint just standing next to the sock guy!" The voices became inaudible as Officer Starkey and her partner walked away. 

Joan knew she and Sherlock were talked about at the precinct; she'd just never actually heard it before. She looked up at Sherlock standing next to her. He pretended to have not heard a thing. But she knew better and she knew the words had bothered him as much as they had her. 

"Ready to go Watson?" He asked with a forced lightness. Sherlock studied her face, assessing the effect, if any, of the overheard critique of their character and relationship. 

Joan looked him square in the eye letting him see the comments stung but did not wound. "Yes," she picked up her purse from the desk. "Why don't we go out for dinner?" 

"Excellent idea. The Thai place you like on 51st should still be open."

"Good!" She buttoned her coat. "And if we have time after dinner, we can walk over to Socks 'R Us and do some browsing." He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head in mock offense.

Sherlock took her lightly by the elbow and started walking, "Come, St. Joan, let's get you out of here before someone lights a fire." She smiled broadly at the comment. They walked out into the cool evening, the noise of the precinct fading away.

\----------

The victim lay on the side walk, face up, the red puddle oozing from beneath creating an outline around him. Joan and Sherlock were called in by Gregson for a consult. This was the third body of the day found in a two block radius. She and Sherlock had concluded it was coincidence and not a killing spree but Sherlock knelt and gave the body a closer examination just in case. That's when Joan caught sight of her and decided they needed a talk. 

Joan walked over to Officer Starkey and asked if she could speak to her in private. Starkey was a tall blonde who towered over Watson. The officer looked confused and a bit annoyed at the request but agreed. She followed Joan a few steps away from the crime scene. 

"For the record, this is a personal conversation. I'm not taking this through official channels. This is between you and me." Starkey shifted her weight uncomfortably. Joan was a good six inches shorter than her but she was intimidating. 

"I heard you make some comments yesterday about my partner and myself that were extremely rude and demeaning. You have the right to your opinion. I'm just asking that you not share those opinions where either I or my partner can hear them. The next time I hear you talk that way about either of us, I will shut you down and write up a formal complaint."

"I didn't say anything that wasn't the truth." She had been well aware that Joan was around the corner when she made the comments. "That guy treats you and us like shit. He thinks he's god's gift to the world and cares for no one but himself. You may be willing to put up with it, but I won't."

Now Joan was mad. No one, but no one, except herself, bad mouthed Sherlock. "You have no idea who that man is or what he's capable of. Yes, he can be rude and arrogant; self-serving and oblivious to social graces. And he does not suffer fools such as you. But he puts himself in danger, does the same job you do, a hundred times better than you, without pay. He has a heart that surpasses his ego ten-fold and cares about people and getting justice for victims. Sherlock is kind and loyal to a fault to those he counts as friends. And believe me being counted as one of his friends is a privilege." Joan spoke with vehemence having gotten up close to Starkey and staring up at her.

"Geez, lady. Alright." The officer felt threatened by the intensity of Joan's reaction but covered it in cool swagger. "I didn't mean to insult your little lover boy. He must be great in bed to get you so riled up. My partner and I will keep our comments away from your tender ears."

Joan went from mad to livid, "You are an idiot. Sherlock is right. It's a waste of breath to talk to bell-ends like you ..."

Her diatribe was stopped by a hand placed on her upper arm, "Watson ... Watson! Come, I need your medical opinion." He moved her away from Starkey and pointed her to the body. "Take a look at his neck, would you?" 

Starkey shook her head and smirked as Joan walked away. Sherlock stood beside the officer, his demeanor calm but his words razor sharp, "I suggest you not ire my partner any further, lest you wish to incur my wrath. By the way, does your partner know you've been sleeping with her father for the past year." The smirk disappeared from Starkey's face. Sherlock had his own way of dealing with pillocks.


End file.
